Ernest Bloch, Macbeth: Soloists, Orchestra and Chorus of Oper Frankfurt, 04.01.2007 (BM)

 

 

 

The Swiss composer’s name is reminiscent of the German philosopher Ernst Bloch, who penned The Principle of Hope some 30+ years after Macbeth was first performed in 1910. And hope was one of the key ingredients in Bloch and his librettist Edmond Fleg’s quest to see their work on stage, finally succeeding in 1910 at the Opéra Comique in Paris. Some might think that the two were overly ambitious in taking on the very same Shakespearean tragedy as Verdi had in his masterpiece only 60 years earlier, but the Italian giant’s version was seldom performed around the turn of the century and it is quite possible that Bloch and Fleg were not even aware of the work.

But they were certainly aware of Freud’s new and revolutionary theory of psychoanalysis, and it is this aspect, in keeping with which they focused on Macbeth’s conscience rather than his ambition, together with Bloch’s splendid orchestral score - almost a guide to the birth of musical modernism in its own right, with its many allusions to Janacek, Debussy, Fauré and especially the Mahlerian brass section - that makes their opera worth seeing. Sadly, however, Bloch’s desire to show “Macbeth’s crime as his inexorable fate” somehow just doesn’t come across on stage; his opera is an admirable piece of music, but works less well as a musical drama.

Due to the fact, at least in part, that Bloch was clearly not as adept at composing for voices as he was at instrumental music, it was a shame that at this performance quite a few outstanding singers didn’t exactly have very inspiring parts to sing – indeed, most of the time it felt like their voices were somehow in the way of the often striking music coming out of the orchestra pit under Martyn Brabbins. At times I almost felt sorry for Daniel Sumegi and Taina Piira, who both lent their substantial talents to the roles of Macbeth and his Lady, and the brilliant chorus (rehearsed by Alessandro Zuppardo), although especially the latter definitely had their moments. The only member of the cast who was allowed a truly lyrical moment was tenor Michael McCown, who gave a moving performance as King Duncan. This was all the more admirable since he had taken on this role in addition to those of Lennox and the First Apparition at the very last minute when his colleague was taken ill, obliging him to sing Duncan from a score - done very discreetly behind a semi-transparent gauze curtain which actually worked very well.

 

Unfortunately, renowned British director Keith Warner’s staging did little else to improve things: entirely in black and white (even the blood was black, and there was no shortage of it), just like the ubiquitous newspapers and cameras, symbolizing the power of modern media over humble mortals? It offered little more than a mere sequence of – albeit extraordinary – images and made no attempt to tell the tale behind them, leaving the audience with nothing but a diffuse feeling of unease to go home with.

Bottom line? At the risk of sounding sarcastic, I will say that I did not come out of this performance desperately wishing that Bloch had composed more than one opera, as one might on emerging from, say, Fidelio. His three hours of astonishing music would have perhaps worked better as a ballet suite, without the voices superimposed on it, but clearly that is not for me to say. Nonetheless, if you are anywhere near Frankfurt on January 13^th, don’t miss the last performance of this production scheduled for the current season! It’s unlikely that this piece will be on the bill anywhere else any time soon, and besides, a visit to Frankfurt’s avant-garde Opera House is always worthwhile; not only because of its artistic programming, but also thanks to its architecture, which is novel and impressive.

The only minor fault I found with the latter this time were the extremely high-altitude surtitles, which would have been quite useful, even though Frankfurt’s Macbeth features the English version of the libretto, created after the composer emigrated to the United States in 1916, and ostensibly prompting him to make extensive changes to the score in order to adapt to the flow of the language. Rather than suffer whiplash, however, I decided to make do as we all did in the old days, understanding about a fourth of what was sung and making up for the rest by semi-intelligent guessing and having read the synopsis.

 

Bettina Mara       

 

Pictures © Monika Rittershaus